A whisper on Christmas Eve
by rainbowlouise
Summary: The nightmare comes again, brought on by the time of year she can't bring herself to love. But she's not alone. This time there's the boy across the fire, always there to make the bad feelings go away. -Christmas themed oneshot-


**A/N**

**Warning: Husky is possibly a little OOC in this wonderful little oneshot I concocted at 1AM in the morning. But it's the kind of OOC that makes you go **_**BAWW **_**and feel all good inside. **

**-cough-**

**Anyway, this fic takes place a few years after the end of the manga. This is my entry for my friend Fangalicous08's Christmas contest. :) **

**Enjoy, lovely readers.**

**-Louise**

* * *

"_Now remember, Nana; sit up straight and smile your biggest smile when Daddy comes home, okay?" Her mother's voice was soft yet urgent, and Nana gave her most winning smile. _

"_Yes Momma. When will he be back?" _

"_Soon, dear. Until then, why don't you climb up and put the star on the Christmas tree while I check dinner?" _

"_Yes Momma." _

_Nana clambered up onto the wooden stool she was sitting on, reaching up with tiny fingers to the top of the tree. She poked her tongue out of her mouth – a method of concentration her mother called a 'bad habit' – and leant closer. Her fingers brushed the topmost branch, but still she couldn't reach it._

_She was leaning further and further, teetering on the edge of the stool, when there was the awful sound of their front door slamming, and her father storming into their little cottage. With a little gasp, she whirled around and stretched her lips as far as they would go, her eyes big and bright and cheerful. Her smile felt hollow, but from the look his her father's eyes he wouldn't be able to tell. He was glaring at her, glaring at the tree, stumbling towards her. _

_"Hi Daddy, I'm just putting the star on top of the tree -" she turned around too quickly, the chair wobbling under her slight weight and tipping too far to the side. __With a blood-curdling scream of terror, she toppled off the stool and crashed into the Christmas tree. __The entire thing came down with a horrible _crash_, branches poking into Nana's skin and drawing blood. She began to cry, forgetting all about her promise to her mother to always smile when her Daddy was around._

"_NANA!" he roared, grabbing the ten year old by the wrist and yanking her from the wreck. "You clumsy, stupid girl! Look at what you've done!" His breath stank of alcohol, his fingernails digging deeply into her soft skin. _

"_Daddy, you're hurting me!" she sobbed, trying to shake her hand free. He grabbed both her shoulders and shoved his face into hers. _

"_You think that hurt, you little wretch? I'll show you what _real _pain is!"_

_Again and again his fists slammed into her. It seemed like there wasn't a part of her left untouched. Her face, her arms, her legs, her stomach – he poured every ounce of his anger into his blows, even as she begged for mercy and cried for her mother. She dropped to the floor and curled up, hoping to shield herself from him._

_But he began to kick her, so hard she thought she was going to die._

"_Oh honey, honey, please don't! Please, please! You're hurting our baby, you're hurting her. Honey, don't do this!" Nana heard her mother voice, but it was faint and far away. _

"_Don't you see what the clumsy fool did? She destroyed our Christmas tree!"_

"_Y – yes, but it was an accident."_

"_An _accident_? You're just like the rest of them, judging me, taunting me! Both of you!__" And then he was hurting her Momma, too, and Nana knew that tomorrow morning there'd be a bunch of roses for Momma on the kitchen table and a beautiful new doll for her on the end of her bed; his way of fumbling for an apology. _

_But it wouldn't change a thing. Because he would still come home drunk, and he would still destroy them, piece by broken piece._

_Silently, agonisingly, Nana began to weep._

* * *

She woke with a gasp, clutching at her head and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. _Just a dream_, she reminded herself sternly, _just a dream_. Nana shivered, the moon casting a pale glow over their little make-shift campsite. Sleeping in the woods always brought up those kind of memories, the kind where her Daddy was a monster and she was beaten time and time again.

She was trying so hard to be cheerful for Christmas. Really, it was the cheeriest time of year. She should've been able to smile without it hurting, and the tightness that had holed up in her chest shouldn't have been there at all. She shouldn't have felt so scared, sad and lonely.

But she did.

Nana drew her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them and holding on tight. Small little sobs escaped her control no matter how hard she tried to hold them back, and then the tears came and she was shaking and shivering and the memories just wouldn't stop and –

"Nana, are you alright?"

Hastily, Nana wiped away her tears and sucked in a shaky breath. Husky was staring at her from across the smouldering remains of the fire, his face worried and serious. Nana nodded once and opened her mouth, but all that came out was another choked sob.

"I'm... I'm fine. I just... I just..."

The words wouldn't come. _I just want the memories to stop. I want _him _to stop following me, chasing me in my dreams and making me re-live it all over again. I want the nightmares to go away. _She shivered, but not from the cold. Then suddenly she felt someone hugging her tightly, crushing her to their chest, and soothing her with soft words.

_Husky_.

"Everything will be okay, Nana."

"It won't. Oh, Husky, it won't ever be okay." She leant into him and shook her head.

"What were the nightmares about this time?" he asked, softly and gently. Nana tried to breathe normally, but all that she could manage were little breathless hiccups.

"C- Christmas Eve... a few years ago. It was one of the... better times... but I – I still remember the bruises and the blood and his _face_, like having me was the worst mistake of his life and... and he couldn't _stand _me."

"He's a bastard." Husky said in that simple curt way of his, "He destroyed you, Nana, and that's unforgivable. In all honesty, you're the one that shouldn't stand _him_."

"I... he's my Daddy – I mean father. I can't hate him..." But the blackness that reared its ugly head whenever she thought of him was hard to ignore, and she knew she couldn't love him, either.

"You don't have to." Husky replied, stroking her hair in what was probably the most sensitive, sad moment of his life. Years ago, when she'd first turned to him in the darkness of the night, Nana couldn't understand why he was doing it – why he was bothering to _comfort _her – but when she asked him all he did was call her stupid and tell her it wasn't hard to figure out. Then she knew. He cared for her, no matter what he said.

The thought made her smile, and for a second it even made the bad feelings go away.

"I'm dreading tomorrow." She said suddenly, because it was what she wanted to say and because it was true.

"Why?"

"Because it's Christmas. He always got the drunkest at Christmas. I could never work out why." Nana closed her eyes.

Husky paused for a moment. "Last Christmas, my mother gave me a slingshot. Do you know why?"

Nana sniffled. "Why?"

"So that I could pelt Keane and all the other bullies with it."

Nana giggled, picturing Husky storming around the castle with a slingshot tucked away in his robes. "Were you any good with it?"

"Plenty."

She could feel the awfulness disappearing with each passing moment. "You know... Momma once stole money from him, just so she could buy me a new pair of sewing needles for Christmas."

Husky chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less of a woman. They're all thieves."

Nana ignored the playful dig. "Every year, I'd always hope that this time it would be different. I'd hope that he'd come home with presents and no alcohol and he wouldn't lay one single finger on my Momma or me. But every year, I'd be disappointed."

"It isn't your fault, Nana."

"I know that, but... in a way I still feel it is. He drank at Christmas because he couldn't afford to buy Momma and I all the things he thought we wanted. But I didn't want anything except for him to love me, because it was so hard to believe that he did." Nana could feel the tears coming again so she closed her eyes and focused on the solidarity that was Husky, the rock she could hold onto when she felt like she was being swept away by the nightmares. This wasn't the first time they'd come together in the silence of the night, kept company by Cooro's snoring, and she doubted it would be the last.

"Do you think he killed my mother after I left, Husky?"

Husky drew her tighter and rested his chin on the top of her head. She could feel his heartbeat, warm and alive and safe. "I think that if your mother is anything like you, she would've been brave enough to leave him."

Nana shook her head. "She... she wouldn't. I can't see her any other way."

"What way?"

"Soft-spoken and timid and so bruised it was _ugly_." Nana paused, her fingers curling around the blanket, "Like I was."

Snow began to fall around them. "You're beautiful, Nana Alba, and I won't forgive him for making you feel anything other than that. Ever."

The quietness of everything made his words seem almost surreal, and Nana was afraid to even speak for fear they'd disappear. But she couldn't hold back - Husky did always say she had a big mouth, after all.

"I thought you hated girls."

"Not you."

They sat like that for hours, shivering in the falling snow but unwilling to move to re-light the fire, until the sun finally floated into the sky. All too soon, Husky stood up and silently made his way back to his sleeping bag. It was always like this. The secrets they shared in the middle of the night were too unreal to let seep into the daytime. Nana watched him leave, a small, barely noticeable smile on her face.

Christmas Day. Every year, she would wake up to a beaten body and an aching heart. Her mother would try to be cheerful – _the biggest smile you can manage, okay dear? _– but that would only make everything seem so false.

But for the first time in what seemed like eternity, Nana felt nothing but warmth. For her, Christmases had always been about what she dreaded, what she feared. She'd never had a Christmas where it was just about giving and receiving; sharing and laughing and loving. It had always depended on the things her Daddy had been able to buy her, and how drunk he got. It shouldn't have.

This year was different.

She was with people she loved, people she cared about. Friends so close they were family, and a boy who made her heart _sing_. Christmas with them wasn't about how much you spent or how many presents you received. It was simply about being alive and happy and sharing the joy of the holiday. She was finally starting to believe that.

Husky had his back to her, but she could almost feel his smile radiating from him, identical to hers.

"Merry Christmas, Husky." She whispered.

His reply was faint, barely audible, but it was there.

"Merry Christmas, and I love you."


End file.
